


can't grow up in that iron ground

by attonitos_gloria



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Baby!Tyrion, Childhood, Gen, House Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attonitos_gloria/pseuds/attonitos_gloria
Summary: Jaime steps in. There is a hearth in that room, and he is suddenly enraged by the maid who left his brother of two so close to a fire, even if, in theory, he could not walk toward it. “Have you tried?” Jaime asks. “To walk?”Tyrion looks even sadder as he shakes his head. He pouts, and Jaime’s rage is replaced by a warm feeling of pity for the boy. Guilt follows the mercy; Jaime is always with Cersei, he never spends much time with the younger one, never actually thinks too much about him. “I fall,” Tyrion explains.Jaime chuckles and approaches him. “Everybody falls when they’re learning,” Jaime says. “It’s normal.”[Jaime teaches a young Tyrion how to walk.]
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister (implied), Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25





	can't grow up in that iron ground

  
  
  


Tyrion talks earlier than Jaime and Cersei did. He’s a wide-eyed, curious child, who never cries when he is in someone’s arms, though few people want to hold him unless strictly necessary, and who listens carefully to every conversation around him at a very early age. He is counting from one to ten at ten months. When he is two, he already can communicate just fine, forming complete sentences and speaking the words clearly even compared to older children. Jaime is impressed. His father and sister, not so much. One day, Jaime listens to a cook saying, unaware of his proximity to the kitchen’s entry, that his lordship’s younger boy was clever only because his head was so big. The joke is followed by laughter that erupts instantaneously in the kitchen; Jaime will be ashamed of himself for turning around and fleeing, instead of stepping in and defending the honor of his brother. But Lord Tywin finds out, somehow, for Jaime never sees the cooks again. His lord father bears no love for the little boy, but no Lannister will be laughed at under his roof.

And laughter, of any kind, is a rare sound since his lady mother died, anyway.

-

Cersei says that the creature is _compensating_ because he can’t walk, cannot, indeed, even crawl. One day, back from his daily training, Jaime walks across the hallway, passing by an open door. He will then walk three steps back, stopping at the door when he notices who’s inside: it’s the boy, the little one; _his brother_. It is weird to think of him like part of his family, like his blood; Cersei never does. Tyrion is alone, sitting straight on the carpet with his little legs crossed, toying with wooden lions. Jaime tries to listen closely. Instead of cute childish babbling, it sounds like he is telling himself a story. Jaime leans against the doorframe. “You should not be alone,” Jaime says. “Where is your maid?”

Tyrion raises his head. “She left and told me to stay,” he answers, simply.

Jaime frowns. “She left?”

His little brother nods. “With a boy.”

Jaime sighs, and then frowns. “And you did as you were told.”

Tyrion looks sad. “I can’t walk.”

Jaime steps in. There is a hearth in that room, and he is suddenly enraged by the maid who left his brother of two so close to a fire, even if, in theory, he could not walk toward it. “Have you tried?” Jaime asks. “To walk?”

Tyrion looks even sadder as he shakes his head. He pouts, and Jaime’s rage is replaced by a warm feeling of pity for the boy. Guilt follows the mercy; Jaime is always with Cersei, he never spends much time with the younger one, never actually thinks too much about him. “I fall,” Tyrion explains.

Jaime chuckles and approaches him. “Everybody falls when they’re learning,” Jaime says. “It’s normal.”

“I only fall,” Tyrion replies. “It hurts.”

Jaime Lannister gives it a thought.

“You can’t stop trying because of it,” he says. “Come on. Let us try again.” Tyrion looks at him warily. It is a weird expression for a child so young; it unsettles Jaime, for some reason, and it will keep unsettling him, even when they grow older. “Look, this carpet is very soft, and I will hold your hand,” Jaime promises.

The suspicion never leaves his mismatched eyes, but Tyrion nods. Jaime moves to stand behind him, and holds both of his tiny hands as he pulls the boy up to stand on his feet. The pair of little hands squeeze his own so much tighter than Jaime expected for a child of two; _he’s afraid_ , Jaime notices, afraid of trying. 

It becomes a daily ritual. Tyrion does stumble more than most children, but Jaime Lannister patiently holds him before he can fall, and when he’s not fast enough to keep Tyrion from falling, he raises him from the ground before he can notice, in that way that older people do with children, trying to convince them that nothing actually happened. “Don’t cry,” Jaime orders as he sees the boy’s lips trembling. A part of him, a part that still remembers Joanna, knows it’s cruel of him to say so; but all Jaime ever knew was to hide the pain, and this is all he has to offer. “Come on. Lannister boys don’t cry. Again.”

So Tyrion swallows his tears and, with furious determination, tries again, time after time, and day after day. Eventually, he'll lose the fear of trying; but how not to be angry at himself when he fails is a lesson he'll never learn.

The first time Tyrion can walk five steps by himself, without Jaime to hold his hand, he falls right into Jaime’s arms, and Jaime tickles him under his armpits, making him giggle. “You did it! Did you see? You did it! Let’s do it again!”

His little arms wrap around Jaime’s neck. Neither of them noticed when exactly Cersei appeared at the door, and Tyrion is too young to understand the coldness in her eyes. “Cesei! I walk!”

Cersei doesn’t smile at him. She looks straight at Jaime. “Come, brother,” she says, and disappears in the hallway.

So Jaime puts his brother down, “we'll train more tomorrow,” he promises, and then he leaves, following the wake of his twin.

-

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any time to write my WIP right now, but I had this little thing in my drafts for years. Title from "Wash" by Bon Iver.


End file.
